


I Saw A Shooting Star, But You Weren't With Me

by CalicoPudding



Series: Of All The Stars In The Sky [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Absent Characters, Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Apologies, Awkwardness, Conversations, Crying, Dogs, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Future Fic, Hospitals, Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury, Memories, Missing Persons, Oikawa Tooru is a hazard to himself, Past, Past Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Past Relationship(s), Permanent Injury, Personal Trainer Iwaizumi Hajime, Photographs, Pro Volleyball Player Oikawa Tooru, Reunions, Undecided Relationship(s), Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 09:12:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8244020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalicoPudding/pseuds/CalicoPudding
Summary: He pushes down all the parts of him that tell him to be grateful, to hug Tooru, to hold him. He doesn't like being angry, but he wants to be, just in this moment. He wants to yell, to let out his frustration because it's been too long as far as he's concerned.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot be stopped. It's just past two in the morning and I would have had this up earlier but I was debilitated with a god awful migraine for the majority of the day. But it's here now. Enjoy the angst.

There's something intrinsically unsettling about coming home to an empty apartment. Granted, it's what he's been doing for the past few years, it still feels wrong. The apartment is usually filled with background noise from the television, or the constant stream of conversation from Hanamaki and Matsukawa when they drop in.

But it's quiet now.

He drops his papers on the couch before easing down to the floor.

He had more clients than usual, one of them wasn't entirely chipper, but how could she be when she was in chronic pain with a brace encasing the entirety of her right leg? He gets a lot of clients with leg injuries, usually their knees.

He doesn't have any clients tomorrow, there was a last minute cancellation. As always, he's scrambling for something to do. Hanamaki and Matsukawa are out of town, and he’s not sure if calling Kageyama is a good idea.

It was a bit of a surprise, seeing the younger boy at work, talking with a short blond and smiling as she said something. He remembers that the blond was one of Karasuno’s managers, but he can’t remember her name. Regardless, he’s worked with Kageyama on a few clients, they often get paired together if there’s a seminar happening. They’ve hung out a few times, but Hinata’s not exactly himself and Iwaizumi always feels a little guilty about asking Kageyama to come out.

Having free time, alone time, is strange. Even after so long, he doesn’t know what it is that he’s supposed to do. He’d not had so much free time in the past. There was school and volleyball, and Oikawa.

But he doesn’t have any of those things to occupy him now.

Though he sorely wishes that he did.

Tipping his head back, Iwaizumi thinks about getting a dog. Akaashi has dogs to cope with the loneliness, and he’s doing fine. Then again, Bokuto actually comes home after the long waits.

Iwaizumi doesn’t have that luxury.

But a dog would be nice. He can work out his schedule, take on less clients. The only reason he has so many is because he doesn’t want free time. If he has free time, he thinks, he drifts. He doesn’t like drifting. Nothing good ever comes from drifting.

A dog sounds like a good idea.

It’s not too late, and he has Akaashi on speed dial. The other man is usually up in the night hours anyways.

So he dials, and he listens to the ringing. Bokuto’s away, in America Iwaizumi thinks, so Akaashi will answer.

He does, after too many rings.

“Iwaizumi? Has something happened?”

“I was thinking of getting a dog,” Iwaizumi says plainly.

“And you want me to…”

“Come to the shelter with me tomorrow, I don’t really want to go alone, I know that sounds strange.”

“Not at all.” If Iwaizumi thinks hard enough, he can see that stupid knowing smile on Akaashi’s face.

“I’ll pick you up at two tomorrow, then?”

“Will three o’ clock work? Clover and Ziggy have check ups, we can go then.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

Iwaizumi hangs up, staring at the end call screen. Talking with Akaashi is always easy, he’s concise and never awkward. He likes talking to Akaashi, and it’s a shame they don’t talk more. They’re both busy, Iwaizumi doesn’t like initiating conversation, that’s never been his job before.

He goes to bed without a shower and throws the covers off the mattress, falling face first into his pillows.

He used to have a ritual of staring at his phone, simply willing it to ring, waiting for the familiar caller i.d. to show up. Now he just spends a second looking at the screen and snuffing out the remaining hope, the hope that crawls its way into his chest every night when the moon is bright and shining through the window.

With his phone face down, ringer turned all the way up, on his nightstand, Iwaizumi does his best to fall asleep.

* * *

Akaashi looks like hell. His eye circles are dark enough that someone could easily think he’d been punched in the face. His hair’s a mess, and he’s clutching his coffee thermos like a lifeline. Iwaizumi doesn’t bother parking, just pulls up in front of the veterinarian's office and honks his horn.

“What happened?” Iwaizumi asks, leaning over to push open the passenger door.

“Long day, even longer night. I was video chatting with Bokuto for a few hours. Clover got sad when we said goodbye, she wouldn’t stop howling until the sun came up.” Akaashi clicks his seatbelt on and yawns. “Then I got an email from my partner, said we’ll be doing intensive training all next week, I have to stay late with some of the kids.”

“Sounds rough.”

“It is.”

Iwaizumi begins driving, pulling back onto the road.

“So how long is the boy wonder away for this time?”

“If they lose? He’ll be back in two weeks. If they keep winning, it’ll be a couple months.” Akaashi doesn’t seem all that bothered, but he’s called Iwaizumi at two in the morning before. Those phone calls are never good. They happen because Akaashi gets that evil little thought that he wants Bokuto to lose just so that he’ll come home. Then he feels gut wrenchingly guilty and calls Iwaizumi. It usually takes an hour to convince Akaashi that he’s not being a horrible person, and then they hang up on the promise of coffee or drinks over the weekend.

“And what do you think they’ll do?”

“They’ve got a good streak going. The next two teams are good but they have an easily exploitable weakness if it’s played correctly. Bokuto will be fine. He tells me they’re working on something new, wants me to look out for in the next match and let him know how he did.”

Akaashi’s smiles have changed from how they were when Iwaizumi first met him. They’ve always been quiet, but now they seem guarded. Like he wants to smile more but won’t let himself.

“Anyways, how’s work?” Akaashi asks after a moment.

“Work’s fine. They have me teaching a class next week, it’s daily exercises for injury recovery. Kageyama used to teach it actually, he’s giving me some of his notes to cross check.”

Akaashi nods his understanding and they make small talk, trading stories of coworkers and students, until they reach the shelter.

“I wouldn’t recommend same day adoption,” Akaashi says opening the door, “You’re gonna want to come here for a few weeks and get to know the dog first.”

Iwaizumi nods and Akaashi takes point as a young woman at the front desk asks what they’d like to do. She points them to a back door and tells them that they can go through and have a look, and that she’ll send someone in for them in a few minutes.

The dog room is loud, the second the door opens it’s nothing but deep barks and high pitched yapping.

Akaashi hangs back by the wall and Iwaizumi walks further in to look around. There are all kinds of dogs, ranging from could-probably-eat-Iwaizumi to might-fly-away-in-a-gust-of-wind. He’s about to cop out on the whole idea when he catches sight of a smaller dog near the middle of the room.

Slowly, he steps towards the dog. Crouching down, Iwaizumi takes a moment to look at the laminated tag attached to the cage door. ‘Ellie’ in big bubble letters dominates the top half of the page, below it lists her age and breed; a four year old cocker spaniel. Her fur is a mixture of white and brown, one ear droops while the other folds over.

“She’s cute,” Akaashi says, coming up behind him.

Ellie isn’t barking, just staring curiously, trotting forward slowly to sniff at Iwaizumi’s fingers through the links. She gives him a hesitant lick before moving back a short ways and staying put.

“That’s surprising,” a voice says from the entryway. “Ellie’s not one for people at all really. She’s very skittish.”

Iwaizumi stands up and turns to face the teenager at the door. She gives them a bright smile and strides forward.

“Ellie came in about a half a year ago. Some overseas family brought her here but left her behind when they moved. Now she keeps to herself. She’s good with the other dogs if she’s with them, but doesn’t really play with them otherwise. If she’s willing, would you like to take her to the visiting room?”

Iwaizumi only nods, unsure of what to do with all the information.

The girl nods and unlatches the cage door, she crouches down and starts making kissing noises.

“Come on little lady,” she says softly, holding out her hand. After a few moments, Ellie does as instructed, allowing herself to be picked up. “Okay, I’m going to hand you off now.”

She does just that and Ellie doesn’t so much as wriggle.

* * *

It’s a few weeks later that Iwaizumi’s filling out the paperwork to take Ellie home with him. In that time, she’s warmed up to him considerably, going so far as to bark happily whenever she sees him enter the dog room. They’ve played in the shelter’s training yard, and sat together in the visitation room, and Iwaizumi loves her.

Akaashi’s brought Clover and Ziggy on a few occasions. Clover is absolutely taken with the smaller dog, and Ziggy seems relieved to have a companion around who won’t try to get him to play tug of war. Ellie sticks close to Ziggy for the most part, but she’s not adverse to Clover.

All in all, it’s a good match up.

Iwaizumi has a clear week ahead of him, scheduling clients for the middle of the next so he has time with Ellie.

Getting acclimated to the apartment takes next to no time. Ellie drags her new dog bed around until she decides she wants it right in the center of the floor. She looks back at Iwaizumi, smiling and panting, waiting for his approval. He gives it easily, scratching behind her ears and dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

They spend the rest of the day playing around, Ellie’s a little jumpy with the change of scenery, but she warms up enough to simply follow Iwaizumi around wherever he goes.

In the end, she doesn’t sleep in her dog bed but with Iwaizumi, curling up on his chest once he falls asleep on the couch.

* * *

Iwaizumi tips his head back, eyes drifting along with the clouds. Usually drifting is bad, but he’s been doing better lately, Ellie’s helped. She’s sitting with Ziggy, occasionally nosing at him, but otherwise keeping still as the two of them watch Clover play fetch with Akaashi.

A piano melody, coming from somewhere in Akaashi’s bag, makes him sit up. He doesn’t hesitate to answer the phone, Akaashi’s busy trying to get the tennis ball back from Clover.

“Hello?”

“Eh? Iwaizumi?”

“Bokuto, hey.”

“Hey! You with Keiji?”

“We’re at the park with the dogs.”

“Oh, right right, you got a dog too. That’s so cool! Can you put Keiji on?”

Akaashi’s managed to wrestle the toy away, he’s laughing all the same though, and Iwaizumi calls him over.

With Akaashi now occupied, Iwaizumi shuffles over to sit with Ziggy and Ellie, the latter of which jumps into his lap. He smiles as she lays down, showing him her belly in a none too subtle hint to give her a scratch.

Only a few minutes pass before Akaashi’s whistling for Ziggy and Clover.

“Bokuto’s home early,” he says, phone clutched tight in his hand. His eyes are glistening.

Iwaizumi gives him a knowing smile, then Akaashi’s jogging away alongside his dogs.

“Guess we should get back too, huh?” he asks, giving Ellie one more scratch. She jumps out of his lap and he clips her leash on.

He's occupied with looking for his keys, and Ellie’s fairly quiet. So it's startling when an angry bark echoes through the apartment halls. Iwaizumi looks at her before looking up and nearly dropping the leash. Ellie continues to bark, quieting only slightly when Iwaizumi picks her up.

“Tooru?”

He looks different, leaning against the rough wall, a small, worn duffel at his feet. His hair is longer, just enough that he has it clipped back out of his face. If anything, his fashion sense has improved, only somewhat. A pair of faded skinny jeans, with a worn button down over a black tank top, it's certainly an improvement.

The biggest difference is that he looks run down. He’s thin, pale, one of his hands is shaking, and he's leaning all his weight on the wall and his good leg.

Perhaps the only thing that hasn't changed is that damn infuriating smile. Iwaizumi has seen it too many times. He saw it when Tooru lied about his knee, or said he was fine despite obviously not being so.

And he gives that smile to Iwaizumi now.

“Hey, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi just stares, deaf to Ellie’s continuous barking. He pushes down all the parts of him that tell him to be grateful, to hug Tooru, to hold him. He doesn't like being angry, but he wants to be, just in this moment. He wants to yell, to let out his frustration because it's been _too long_ as far as he's concerned.

But he pushes down that part too. He takes in the bandaids on Tooru’s fingers, the bruise peeking out from the cuff of his button down, and what is obviously a roll of medical tape just barely visible in the duffel’s unzipped front pocket, and he unlocks his door.

Ellie quiets down, apparently sensing that Tooru isn’t a stranger, but he might as well be.

Iwaizumi waves him inside, tells him to take off his shoes and set his bag by the door. Tooru’s limp isn't horrible, it's noticeable, which is concerning. The surgery fixed him up, but Tooru is an idiot, there's no way he stayed off his leg like he was supposed to. It’s not like his knee was all that healed anyways, two weeks of physical therapy is practically useless.

Tooru sits down on the couch and folds his arms across his stomach, his left leg bouncing at an almost concerning speed. Iwaizumi sets Ellie down, and she takes a few cautions steps towards Tooru, stopping about twice an arm’s length away. She lets out a low growl, but it’s soft, no real menace behind it, before she trots back towards her bed and lays down. Iwaizumi sits on the opposite end of the couch, turning slightly so he can face Tooru. He tucks up one of his legs and clasps his hands together to keep them from fidgeting too much.

“Where have you been?”

They both ignore the crack in his voice, even Ellie puts her head down and closes her eyes. Iwaizumi wishes he could ask without sounding desperate, but he _is._ For too many years, he’s been wondering where Tooru’s been, if he was safe, if he was in trouble. That first month, Iwaizumi had been a mess, calling Tooru so many times that he filled the voicemail box. After that, he continued calling, he sent far too many texts, day after day. Iwaizumi called train stations, buses, any form of transportation, just trying to see where Tooru went. For so long, he’s been hoping that Tooru would come back, and now?

He doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Around,” Tooru says softly, squeezing his body tight, refusing to look at Iwaizumi.

“What’ve you been doing?”

A sharp breath, the pitch is almost concerning, wrestles its way past Tooru’s lips. It startles Ellie, such that she jumps up and runs to Iwaizumi, like she’s protecting him from the incredibly scary noise she’s just heard. She growls, for real this time, and Tooru looks up at her.

“Ellie, shh,” Iwaizumi puts his hand on her head and she quiets down immediately, turning to give Iwaizumi a smile.

“She’s cute,” Tooru says, hesitating a moment before unwinding one of his arms. He stops, as if getting the idea that maybe petting the dog who’s been growling at him isn’t the best idea.

Iwaizumi gives a hum of acknowledgment.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says.

Slowly, Tooru meets Iwaizumi’s gaze. His eyes look glassy with tears, big and brown and just as beautiful as they’ve ever been.

“I-I uh,” Tooru starts. He cuts himself off, viciously digging his teeth into his bottom lip as it begins to tremble.

It hurts, seeing him like this. Iwaizumi hasn't hurt this much since he saw Tooru hit the gymnasium floor, since he sat with him in the ambulance. Tooru looks almost as broken as did then.

There had been tears, Tooru had been heaving in heavy sobs in the midst of hyperventilation. His team had panicked, the building went dead silent. Iwaizumi had bolted from the stands, rushed to the gym floor because rules be damned. He'd held onto Tooru until the ambulance came, and he went along for the ride. The time spent in the waiting room was hellish, he called Matsukawa, who brought nearly all of their old team with him.

Tooru looks like he might implode, and Iwaizumi wants to reach out and take his hand, but he doesn't know what will happen if he does.

“Okay, it's fine,” Iwaizumi says. “You look tired, we can talk in the morning.”

“I don't-”

“You're not intruding. Do you need pajamas?”

There's probably some in Tooru’s bag, almost definitely, but Iwaizumi won't deny him a comfort.

Tooru nods.

“Okay, just give me a minute, I'll be right back.”

Maybe too quickly, Iwaizumi is up on his feet, and inside his room in a few long strides.

He closes the door behind him and slaps one of his hands over his mouth. He can feel the tears well up in his eyes, so he tips his head back. It doesn't feel real, Tooru being in his living room, looking very much like he’s keeping back the world’s oceans in his eyes. Iwaizumi doesn’t know what happened, and he so badly wants to know. Tooru had been there one second, then gone the next. And he’s back again, on Iwaizumi’s couch, shivering and bruised and hesitant. Iwaizumi needs to know what happened.

But he won’t press tonight.

Tooru needs to sleep, probably needs to eat as well.

Iwaizumi pulls a pair of sweatpants and one of his sleep shirts from their drawers and blinks hard to erase any evidence that he may have almost cried. He draws in a deep breath, keeps breathing in until it’s painful, then lets it all go.

Tooru’s still on the couch, Ellie is sniffing his fingers. Iwaizumi watches from the hall a moment, and he smiles faintly when Ellie plops herself down on the cushion beside Tooru and lets him scratch behind her ears.

“I’m sure you remember where the bathroom is. Go ahead and take a shower too, I’ll get the couch made up.”

Tooru comes to stand barely a breath away, and they both freeze.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, taking the clothes and moving past Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi doesn't move until he hears the shower turn on, and he doesn't breathe until he hears the curtain slide.

Ellie gives him a curious look before she pads over to her bed and promptly falls asleep.

Mechanically, Iwaizumi sets to getting the couch ready. He has spare blankets in the hall closet, and Tooru can use one of his pillows. Half the time, Iwaizumi will wake to find Hanamaki on his couch, or Matsukawa -because, apparently, they feel the need to check in on him- or the two of them together. So he’s gotten in the habit of keeping bed supplies close at hand.

He also probably needs to change his lock, since there’s no way he’ll get his keys back.

In the back of the closet is a faded light blue quilt. It’s fraying along one side, but Iwaizumi’s kept it together as best as he can. He’d thought for sure that Tooru would come back for it. He slept on the couch, just in case Tooru decided to sneak into the apartment, for the quilt of course.

Iwaizumi sets it along the back of the couch and goes to get one of his pillows.

He pauses by the bathroom door, holding his breath on the off chance that Tooru has developed super hearing in his absence. The shower is running, and something like muffled singing filters through. It’s not any song that Iwaizumi recognizes, and it takes him a moment to realize that it’s not a legitimate song at all. Tooru’s just singing, splicing together words and thoughts and throwing them together with a melody mumbled under his breath.

It sounds pretty good actually.

Iwaizumi shakes his head and continues on, grabbing the first pillow he sees and slinging it over his shoulder.

By the time Tooru’s done, Iwaizumi is pouring tea into a mug.

Tooru looks even worse than he did before he got in the shower. His hair clings to his face, still damp, while he practically swims in Iwaizumi’s clothes. They’re just about the same height now, Iwaizumi hit a short growth spurt in his first year at university, while Oikawa didn’t grow at all. Iwaizumi’s shirt is a short sleeve, and it displays a freshly bandaged bicep. The bruise on Tooru’s wrist is an ugly stain, purple and red but fading against his skin. It doesn’t look anything like a hand, and that’s really the only comfort. The bandaids are gone, revealing newly scabbed cuts and calluses that have been torn open.

“Here,” he says, holding the mug out for Tooru to take.

He wants to ask, he really does.

But he also wants to cry.

Once Tooru takes the mug, Iwaizumi moves past him and pauses at the entry of the hall.

“I’m going to bed, I have a client in the morning. There’s food in the fridge if you get hungry. Ellie will be out here but she might come into my room so the door’s open. Do you need anything right now?”

Tooru shakes his head and Iwaizumi only nods, turning around. He gets half way down the hall before Tooru calls out to him.

“Um, Iwa-chan?”

It’s almost embarrassing how fast Iwaizumi turns around.

“Yeah?”

There’s a heavy sort of silence for all of thirty seconds before Tooru gives him that damn infuriating smile and shakes his head.

“Nothing, thank you for the tea.”

Iwaizumi just nods, he hesitates for a few heartbeats before he goes to his room.

He can’t cry, not with his door open and Tooru in the living room. What is he supposed to do then? Tooru’s back. He should be happy, damn it. He should be more than happy that Tooru is back, that he’s more or less okay. Iwaizumi had imagined the worst, he’d had nightmares for more than a month, just imagining all the horrible things that could happen to Tooru.

But now?

Tooru’s in his living room, with his dog, and Iwaizumi’s trying not to cry in his bedroom.

* * *

It’s three in the morning, too early to be up, but Iwaizumi is awake anyways.

Tooru’s at his bedroom door, holding onto it, half of his body hidden.

“Hey, Iwa-chan?” he calls softly.

It’s just as well, Iwaizumi isn’t expecting sleep.

He sits up and turns on the lamp on his nightstand.

“Tooru?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.”

“It’s fine, come in.”

Iwaizumi figures that Ellie is still asleep, as Tooru’s footsteps aren’t accompanied by the jingle of her tag. Before Tooru can hover awkwardly, wondering where he should put himself, Iwaizumi pats the space beside him.

Tooru has the quilt around his shoulders like a cape, and Iwaizumi almost smiles. They don’t say much more after that. Iwaizumi leans against the headboard, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. He knows Tooru is sitting with his shoulders hunched forward, his bad leg hanging off the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on his hands.

“I haven’t apologized yet,” he says after a while.

Iwaizumi opens his eyes.

“I said you didn’t have to do this until tomorrow, when you aren’t so tired.” He wants to hear it, wants to so badly. But the scared part of him, the part that’s cowering, hands over his ears and eyes squeezed shut because there’s no way that Tooru is actually with him, that part says no. He won’t be able to handle anything if Tooru spills his heart right now.

“I’ll be too scared to do it tomorrow,” Tooru says quietly.

Iwaizumi stares at the ceiling for as long as he can before giving in and meeting Tooru’s eyes.

Big and brown and beautiful as always, rimmed red and filled with tears, he’s missed Tooru’s eyes, missed them more than he should.

“Tooru-”

“I’m so sorry, Hajime, I’m sorry.”

Then Tooru’s arms are around him, hot tears soaking into his shirt. Tooru is shaking, fingers digging into Iwaizumi’s skin, but he’s not going to say anything about it.

“I’m sorry I left,” Tooru whispers, pulling Iwaizumi in tighter, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything or come back or- or-”

Iwaizumi settles one of his hands on Tooru’s head, tugging lightly on his hair.

Tooru stops talking, but he continues crying and Iwaizumi shifts to hold him properly.

The last time he saw Tooru cry was in the hospital, the day after his surgery. The doctor had pulled Iwaizumi aside to tell him that Tooru would be bed bound for upwards of three months, and unable to move properly for an additional two. Following that, if he kept up with his rehabilitation, he might be able to play volleyball again.

Just nowhere near the level he’d been at before.

Iwaizumi had to break the news to him. Tooru had stared at him, uncomprehending at first, before his thoughts began to spin. It had taken him years to get to where he was, years to finally feel like he was good enough.

And it was all ripped away at his debut game.

Iwaizumi holds Tooru tighter, stroking his hair and quietly shushing him.

“I panicked,” Tooru sniffles.

“What?”

“That’s why I left. I panicked, and I was afraid. So I left.”

“It was stupid,” Iwaizumi says without thinking, “You couldn’t walk properly, you could have gotten seriously hurt.”

Tooru had only been going to physical therapy for two weeks, Iwaizumi worked with the doctor for most of the sessions, except for the last one. He had a client during Tooru’s appointment. When he drove to the clinic afterwards, to pick Tooru up, the secretary told him that Tooru had already left. They were living together then, or about to anyways. Iwaizumi had taken a year to work before starting university, so Tooru was a year ahead of him. It was in Iwaizumi’s last year that Tooru, having already graduated, was going to start playing professionally. The plan was to move Tooru into Iwaizumi’s apartment, but until then, Hanamaki had been checking in on him daily since he lived closer.

Iwaizumi had checked, but Tooru wasn’t at his own apartment, or Hanamaki’s. He’d driven home, on the slight hope that Tooru hadn’t been totally stupid, that he’d called a taxi, but he wasn’t so lucky.

Tooru had vanished.

“I know,” Tooru says.

Iwaizumi isn’t certain how to respond, so he just tips his head back again, sighing heavily.

“You’re back now, and you’re staying, right?”

When Tooru doesn’t answer, Iwaizumi tries to let him go, to see his face but apparently Tooru doesn’t realize that. He grips Iwaizumi tighter, as if he’s afraid he’s being abandoned.

“I-” he starts, “I want to...Are you- do you-”

“If you want to, that’s good enough. We can figure something out.”

Tooru’s death grip loosens considerably and he sits up, letting go after a moment to rub at his face. Iwaizumi stays still, stiff and barely breathing until Tooru gives him a teary eyed smile.

For once it’s not the smile that Iwaizumi hates.

* * *

Iwaizumi waits until Tooru is asleep.

He slips out of Tooru’s arms, and pauses a moment, just to brush his thumb against Tooru’s cheek. He takes his phone with him too, his ringer is still on, and he’s going to have to make a phone call pretty soon.

Ellie’s still asleep in her bed, though she twitches when Iwaizumi sits down on the couch.

It’s maybe a little bit wrong but he’s too impatient.

Tooru’s bag is on the floor and Iwaizumi crushes the nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him to stop.

There’s medical tape and pain pills in the front pocket. The pills aren’t Tooru’s prescription though, Iwaizumi knows because he’d picked up Tooru’s first prescription on the way to the hospital, and there’s no way Tooru memorized the number for them.

In the left pocket, it’s nothing but energy boosts, gum packs, breath mints, and travel sized toothpaste. There’s also three packs of cigarettes and two lighters. The right side has toiletries; a plastic case with a tooth brush, hair ties and clips, travel sized everything, and a hair brush. A few boxes of bandaids are crushed at the bottom, and a scratched mp3 player is nestled between a washcloth and a nail file.

Iwaizumi takes a breath before unzipping the main compartment of the duffel.

Two pairs of jeans, a few shirts, and undergarments, are all crammed to one side, along with a few pairs of sweatpants. The edge of a laptop pokes out beneath the clothes. The remaining space is home to a binder full of various documents, most of them are rent agreements, job applications, and photocopies of Tooru’s personal paperwork. There’s also a worn paperback, a rolled up sweater, a plastic bag of concealer and chapstick, a coiled phone and laptop charger, as well as a notebook that’s certainly seen better days.

His wallet is there too; it’s nothing but cash and crumpled train tickets. He can probably trace the route Tooru took to get here, find out where he was, but Iwaizumi’s too tired at the moment, and part of him doesn’t want to know.

A thick envelope sits between a pair of socks.

It’s full of pictures.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki teasing Yahaba. Kyoutani looking utterly baffled that Tooru got him a Christmas present. Kunimi and Kindaichi half asleep against the wall after practice. There’s graduation photos; Hanamaki pretending he’s not crying, Tooru smiling easily as Yahaba is in the middle of swearing up and down that he’ll be a good captain. Then there’s Iwaizumi, caught by surprise, his face confused in one shot, before a warm smile tugs his lips up in the next.

He knows that picture, Tooru took it, he had it framed.

There’s photos of their apartments, before they had any furniture, and photos when they really started to feel like home. Tooru had a student dorm, Iwaizumi got his own apartment, their universities were too far away from each other for them to live together, but they managed. Tooru has pictures of Iwaizumi studying, books and anatomy diagrams spread around him, followed by a picture taken a few hours later, Iwaizumi slumped over those books and asleep. Pictures of the two of them out on a date, or sitting in Tooru’s university library.

Some of these pictures are ones that Iwaizumi took; Tooru after his first day of practice, Tooru in his official team uniform, and one of the both of them when they went out for dinner after finding out that Tooru was going to be playing his debut game with the team at a semi-finals competition.

There’s nothing else after that.

Iwaizumi slips the pictures back into the envelope and sets the duffel to rights, putting it back where he found it so Tooru won’t know he went through it.

He doesn’t know where they’re supposed to go from here. Tooru’s back, and he’s thankful, very much so, but it’s strange. They’ve been together nearly their entire lives, he’s seen Tooru at his highest and lowest points, numerous times in fact. But it’s been four years since Tooru left.

Four years with no contact.

Four years spent not knowing whether or not Tooru was even alive.

Things have changed.

Iwaizumi decides against calling, and turns off his ringer before scrolling through his contacts. He opens up his text history with Matsukawa, and types ‘he’s back’. He sends the same message to Akaashi before throwing his phone to the opposite end of the couch.

The soft thud is somehow enough to wake Ellie, and she blearily jumps onto the couch to join him.

“Sorry,” he whispers, holding her to his chest as he stands up. Sleep is out of the question, but Tooru will get the wrong idea if he wakes to an empty bed.

Iwaizumi doesn’t bother getting his phone, Matsukawa will probably show up later if he doesn’t answer, and Akaashi will magically know the proper time to call. So he just carries Ellie back to his room. By the time he resettles on the mattress, she’s asleep again.

Tooru shifts towards him but doesn’t wake, sniffling before he goes still.

Iwaizumi can only sigh.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll tell you right now, each of these parts is going to have a dog in it. I'm going to make sure of it.  
> The main story is still in the process of being finished, I ended up rewriting the chapter a few times, after this it's just the asadaisuga part, and a few touch-bases with the other characters.  
> I promise I'm working on the other things, feel free to yell at me.


End file.
